


I'm Not Calling You A Liar.

by theweakestthing



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yata and Fushimi meet after the death of the Red King and things have changed. <br/>Inspired by the song I'm Not Calling You A Liar by Florence And The Machine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Calling You A Liar.

Metal clashes with metal and the noise rings out through the empty warehouse. There's a sly smile and a fierce snarl, curt backhanded comments and barked insults. Yata fights as hard as he always has, even without the powers given by the Red King. The effort he dispenses just to keep up with Fushimi makes his veins pop and he's sweating and panting, Fushimi's hardly broken a sweat as he narrowly misses Yata's cheek. He clicks his tongue, he's grown tired of this farce; since his precious Mikoto-san had died Yata had sought him out every time he felt like he was falling apart. 

_I'm not calling you a liar,_

Fushimi was sick of the lies, sick of the fights, sick of holding back and sick of doing absolutely nothing about what had happened. He knew how he himself felt and after the death of the two kings, he had thought about Yata's own feelings and he wanted to stab himself in the face. The hurt, the looks of hope, the fact that he always got a rise out of the other, how he was here now, how he had sought him out.

_just don't lie to me._

"Stop it," Fushimi barked as he held Yata to him, "stop fighting, haven't we done enough." Fushimi wrapped his arms around Yata, their weapons discarded and forgotten. Fingers twisted in the front of his shirt and the smaller began to shake, he buried his face into firey ginger hair. "Haven't we done enough lying," he breathed into the soft locks, "I'm sick of lying."

_I'm not calling you a thief,_

Tears soaked his shirt, he pulled Yata's face away and wiped those wet eyes. Fushimi pressed his lips to the smaller's forehead, hands pulled at his collar revealing the burn marks. Yata softly touched the marks with his lips and nuzzled into the broad chest, the pounding heart gently pressed against his cheek.

"it's like your heart's trying to touch me," the poetic words felt foreign on Yata's tongue, but he was tired of this too. Much more tired than Fushimi, since he hadn't even started this crap. 

_just don't steal from me._

"It knows its owner, Misaki" Fushimi's thumb rubbed against Yata's cheek, "it's always been yours, thief," he said fondly. 

"We're fucking idiots, aren't we?" The laughter was sad but genuine, he stepped back finally ready to look Fushimi in the eyes. They were warm and it had been so long since he had seen that look, he started to cry again. 

"It's more my fault though," Fushimi sighed as Yata rubbed his eyes with back of his hand.

"But if I hadn't been so blind," Yata hiccups.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

_I'm not calling you a ghost,_

The light from the streetlamps shines through Fushimi's window and caresses Yata's skin. They were in his apartment, on the bed with the lights off. The smaller man rose in his lap, soft moans and mewls left that pretty mouth. Fushimi was mildly annoyed at himself for missing the sight of the HOMRA mark on Yata's collarbone, he kissed the clear skin. 

_stop haunting me._

The sight of Yata above him drowned him in all the emotions he had held back for so long, the waves consumed him and he rose to meet the other's hips. He met amber eyes and tired to burn the image in his memory.

"I want to capture the look in your eyes with the shutter of my heart," Yata's voice was thick with emotion, the rise and fall of his hips never faltered. Fushimi was stunned, words he yearned to say caught in his throat. "Totsuka-san said something like that once," Yata buried his face in the crock of Fushimi's neck, letting the other fill him completely.

_And I love you so much, I'm gonna let you kill me._

They sighed into each other, shuddering in the aftermath. Chests heaved, limbs tangled. They lay side by side and gazed into each other's eyes, fingers intertwined between. Fushimi could only hear the rushing of his blood as amber eyes consumed him, he vaguely wondered how his heart could beat so fast for so long. 

_There's a ghost in my lungs and it sighs in my sleep._

Their breath evened out slowly and Fushimi ran his fingers through Yata's hair. He took in Yata's naked form, the firm column of his neck, the soft curve of shoulders, the visible press of rib bones against skin, the jut of hips, the trail of dark curly hair, the supple limp flesh between lean thighs, toned calves and petite boney feet. 

_Wraps itself around my tongue as it softly speaks._

"I love you," Yata softly sighed blushing openly and Fushimi cursed the other for getting there before him. 

"I love you more, Misaki," Fushimi smiled warmly and caressed Yata's cheek with his thumb. He pulled the other into his embrace and held him close. 

_Then it walks with my legs, to fall at your feet._

Yata moved into Fushimi's apartment and let the other help him get back on his feet. He bristled when Fushimi called him a good house wife, but he did keep the place clean, do the laundry and cook. He couldn't find a decent job so it was the least he could do for Fushimi since he brought in all the money. And it made him happy doing the menial tasks, it brought a shred of normalcy back to his life and the look on Fushimi's face when they had a homemade dinner was priceless. 

No matter how hard and long his day, Fushimi's feet would always bring him home. Before he would have stayed longer or wondered around town, but now he had a reason to go home. His reason for breathing, for continuing to live was waiting for him at their home. 

_And when you kiss me I am happy enough to die._

When they parted it was slowly and their lips separated last and when they came back together it was their lips that met first. The force that joined them together tugged at them during the times that they were apart.

Yata would worry at his nails staring at the door as day turned to night and Fushimi still hadn't come home. Images of the other's body slumped lifelessly in an alley somewhere came to Yata's mind, he couldn't take another person he loved dying. He paced around the small room and jumped as he heard the lock turn, he ran to the door as it swung open. A tired and dishevelled looking Fushimi staggered through the door and Yata had never been so relieved. Before Fushimi could say anything, Yata crashed against him in a desperate kiss. 

"You know phones exist, right?" Yata breathed, raising an eyebrow at the other.

"Sorry, I was out on a mission, a strain got out," Fushimi stated and caught the look of concern of Yata's face, "I'm fine though, it was just really annoying and took ages, the selfish bastard," he added quickly and brought Yata into his arms. 

"Don't you go dying on me, stupid monkey," Yata spat as he trailed kisses up Fushimi's neck.

"I love you," Fushimi held Yata's chin in his fingers and rubbed their noses together.

"I love you too, idiot," Yata blushed fiercely and pressed their lips together softly.

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't really how I wanted it to go, but it sort of got away from me.


End file.
